


The Value of a Smile

by sbahjification



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Eating Disorders, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-02 20:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sbahjification/pseuds/sbahjification
Summary: the wataru/mika tag was empty and i felt like changing it





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i am sorry

Mika curled up into himself, hands wrapped around a cup of tea in a surely improper but comforting manner, his face red in part from his ever-present anxiety and in part from the hot tea's steam. He stared down into the cup, his eyes reflecting back up at him, reminding him that he dared not let them wander further upward, lest he ruin the lively atmosphere around him. He occasionally ended up on outings like this, being so attached at the hip to Shu that it was natural he'd be taken along with the whims of the latter's "oddball" friends, but never did the familiarity ease his worries around the excessively boisterous, mysterious, and close friends that Mika was noticeably not a part of and shied away from at every opportunity.

He felt eyes on him - he always did, around these people - but these were not the piercing golden eyes of the boy who only sometimes even tried to avert his gaze, and he had no desire to find out whose presence it was that was scrutinizing him, judging him for stray hairs that had gotten blown out of place on the walk here, his eyes that didn't match, his jacket that didn't fit right because he'd been heavier when Shu so expertly tailored it to him, the tears that welled up so, so easily and threatened to start flowing then and there if whoever it was didn't look away, but they didn't, and he pulled his knees up to his chest, having the comfort of something to hold for only as long as it took Shu to warn him that they were in public and that putting your feet up on a dining booth bench was as ill-mannered as you could get, at which point he resigned to his fate and instead leaned up against the window, making his presence as small as possible. Regardless, the discomforting gazes still fell on him sometimes, and each time he shrank into himself more.

Going to a cafe was always so fun in theory, and when it was just him and Shu or Arashi, it was in practice too. But around these - the boy from 2A with an enchanting aura about him that always flashed Mika smiles and winks; the one who spoke like a grandpa and seemed to know everything, and who his classmate always complained about; the one with a whimsical, ethereal aura that felt like a divine being come to rest on Earth; and the loud, boisterous one, with gorgeously long hair, a build and a voice that towered over Mika and threatened to drown out everything and everyone else in the room, and eyes not purple as the eyes of Shu that he loved to stare into until the latter got annoyed, but with a softness, a lavender like the scent that seeped off of the little boy, Hajime, he worked with so often, but unlike his timidity, they carried a bold gaze that stared directly back at Mika.

He jumped, forgetting about the cup in his hands just long enough for hot tea to spill onto the counter and his own shirt. Fortunately the black wouldn't stain, but he winced at considering that Shu was right next to him and that he'd just made a fool of them both. 

"Good grief..." Following his complaint, Shu mimicked Mika in grabbing for some paper towels, dabbing at the latter's shirt while he cleared the table off. To Mika's relief, he had nothing further to say about it, and for a brief, blissful moment he didn't notice how silent the table had fallen.

"Fufufu..." Even his muttered laughter was louder than Mika would ever have liked, mocking him, breaking the silence, diverting Mika's attention up to see that all eyes were on him. 

"Ehehehe. Shu really cares for his 'child', doesn't he." The soft voice of the ethereal-looking one was almost calming, and would be if it hadn't been accompanied by stares and comments from the party of oddballs.

Shu met his remark with a scoff. "It is nothing such as caring. It's merely my responsibility to ensure Valkyrie maintains a presentable face in all affairs. Spilling tea all over yourself for no good reason runs contrary to that, but the least I am to do is clean up the mess made by this brainless thing."

"Shu is being a bit 'insulting' now." Mika opened his mouth to object to anyone speaking ill of his Oshi-san, friend or not, but was wordlessly corrected as across from him, the same boy dipped his fingers into his glass of water and splashed a bit of it onto his face, dragging the now-wet hand across his jawline with a contented sigh. Mika's words caught in his throat at the sight, the "divine being" seeming undeterred by making such a sight of himself. Of course Mika wasn't the one being insulted, if he made a habit of this.

"Water is the best on a 'hot day like this', you see, but your M-Mi-san...? only had 'tea' available, didn't he?" With those words, he reached into his water again, this time to pull out an ice cube and hold it out to a speechless Mika. "If you would like to 'cool down', this will be better," he explained, his eyes closing in a sincere smile that forced Mika to accept that he really meant it. He took so long to fumble over possible reactions that his voice was again drowned out before it could escape, this time by an irritated Shu.

"Enough of this. Kagehira will not be participating in such unsightly behavior, especially not with the lot of you already staring at him. At this rate, it will soon enough be the whole restaurant, and I am not inclined to leaving early under threat of embarrassment."

"But what is the point of bringing along such a beauty if no one can admire it? Little crow! Caging yourself away in anxieties will never allow anyone to appreciate your wings!"

_What is there to appreciate?_ he was about to respond, and though by now he should have been accustomed to being unable to get a word in edgewise, it still caught him off guard when a handful of rose petals were tossed into the air, followed by a tugging on Mika's head and before he could react, a white bird flying away to perch on its owner's outstretched finger. He blew a petal off his nose and when no hair fluttered about in front of him, his hand went up to examine what damage had been done to it.

"Beautiful! Amazing!" 

"Leave it Be, Mika-kun. I Agree, it does look rather Beautiful."

The rest of the table agreed, and nervously Mika lowered his hand from the pin that was holding back all the hair which covered his eyes. His face felt naked and warm, but if Shu had objections, surely he would take care of them himself - and to Mika's relief, he did, for just long enough to pin his bangs back in an equally revealing but more aesthetically pleasing manner. Good stares may have been even worse than bad ones. At least Mika was used to bad stares, but on top of being uncomfortable, having his eyes so wholeheartedly complimented was _foreign_. Shu seemed contented with the situation though, and he trusted Shu more than himself for both his emotions and his hair, so he dared not contradict either.

"Of course it is beautiful. He is mine after all," Shu boasted, "and my taste is exquisite. However, to carelessly touch another's doll like that, Wataru, what would you do if it were my Mademoiselle and you damaged her? That sort of thing cannot be repaid with money."

"But it is not your Mademoiselle, it is your Kagehira, who is not nearly so delicate! I am not so careless that I would go about damaging such a lovely face," Wataru quipped back, and Mika sunk further into the sides of the booth, praying for an out from the strangeness that was being called beautiful, being looked at, with such striking lavender eyes, by someone a million times more beautiful than he would ever be, and his prayers were answered temporarily by trays of food being brought over to everyone (even Shu, he was glad to see) except him, and in the bustle he hoped that that fact wouldn't stand out.

Two prayers answered seemed to be too many.

"Little crow! Where is your food?"

Mika cringed internally. Wataru's voice was so loud it felt like he was announcing their business to the entire restaurant, which he might well have been, but externally he put on the same pacifying smile he'd trained himself to whenever anyone asked.

"'m not so hungry right now, and 'sides, all this fancy food'd upset my stomach. 'S alright though, I've always got some candy with me," he pulled out a half-full bag of it as evidence, "if ya wanted some."

"Such an act would truly be like taking candy from a baby," the grandpa noted. "Regardless, a chef wouldn't think twice about making food to your standards, unusual as they might be."

"'S really fine, I swear. 'm just-" On cue, his stomach rumbles as loudly as his hatred for his body intensifies. "N-Not feeling so good." Excuses falling through as easily as they did, Mika opted instead to fumble his way away from the table and into the restroom, silence and the locked comfort of the stall a blissful relief from the bustling cafe. Here he did pull out a candy, his favorite flavor, to calm down a bit, letting himself get lost in the slight sweetness and the cold of the bathroom door against his back. His fingers dug themselves harshly into his thighs, a poor substitute for a habit that he wished he could go back to at that moment, but that he wouldn't have had a chance to anyway, being snapped from his thoughts by the creaking of the door.

"Mika-kun?" Natsume's voice was enchanting as it always was, almost tempting Mika to respond, but maybe if he stayed silent, he figured, the other boy would assume he had gotten lost, and he focused on his candy.

"Mika-kun," the voice repeated, almost bored and much closer than it had been. "I know your feet aren't Backwards. No one is here but Me."

Mika inhaled, still trying his original plan, but Natsume had no intention of budging. The two of them had been alone before, and Mika could trust him, he knew that, but, "Why aren't ya Oshi-san?" He finished his thought aloud without care for how clunky of wording it was.

"Because I'm Me," he responded as if the question were perfectly natural to ask. "Wataru-nii-san had some business with Shu-nii-san, who figured that I'm worthy of coming to help You."

"I don' need help. Jus' a break."

"Hmm... I don't take you for an excellent Liar, so I'll leave you Be.

R̳͕e̥̲̙̝st ̺̣͙a̙̼͙͉̖̠ṣs̞̻̯͚u͇̩r̬͕͖̺̳ḛ̖ͅd̗̙̻ ̳͓̖͚̥̯t̬̙̠h̝͕̜͖a͕̪̜ͅt̘͓͔ ͖͓̼n͍̖̗o̭̖͇͖̻͓͎ ͔̫p̞͍̹͕̻͇r͖͙̹̙̻i̺͎ce̻̥ i͎͔̞s̱ t͓̮͓̜̥o̤̼̤͎̗o̦̗ ̩h̜i̦͍g̬h̦͓̠͔ͅͅ ̮͎̦͖t̲̲ͅo͉͓̬͚̤̺ ̻͕̭p̻ut ͙a̹̼̲ ̺̠͈͖̞̺̮s̖̺̰̞̺̝m̹̰̜̦̹ḭ̻̖̰̫̰l̞͈e̞͍͖̦̼ ̹̱͖̮̰̯̼o̖̩̭͍n͙̟͙̦̝ ̺̦s̯̫̹o͇̙̰m̼̗̜̪͉̭e̗̹on̰̺̞̪͈̝e̠͓͔̻̞͔'̫̤͚̘̟s͖ ̘̰f͎͖͖ͅa̮͖͉c̖̳͎̦̹e̞͇̱ͅ.̠

Good Night."

The door creaked again, and Mika was alone at last. With no particular motivation to go rejoin the group, or leave the bathroom for that matter, he leaned against the wall again, hand resting on the wet spot left by the tea, his breath hitching. He pulled himself off the wall and got to dabbing, carefully, mindlessly, at it with a wet towel, letting the motion absorb him like any other work, taking his time to do it carefully, check it over for any leftover tea, and dry it off, the process of which took up the time and concentration required for him to ignore anyone else coming in and out of the bathroom until the door clattered open loudly enough to startle him out of it.

"Little crow~!"

"Nnaah?" was his automatic response, and all that was needed for Wataru to locate him and grab him by the wrist, tugging him (only lightly enough to encourage, firm but tender, and his hands were so soft) back out into the restaurant, the sights and sounds and smells assaulting him to the point where as soon as he saw Shu he clung on to him for dear life, only to be tugged back into the hold of Wataru (who surely didn't always smell like roses) with more confused-but-not-quite-objecting bird noises.

"Wataru has informed me that he would like to get to know you better and to that end find a less noisy environment. I will be going home, so if you have objections you are free to come with me." 

He had objections, of course, that he didn't know this man so well, that the latter was loud, that he himself wasn't worth getting to know, but the grip on his hand would have let up so easily even to someone like him, and Shu trusted him with his possessions, and maybe, just maybe, his voice would be a little more bearable if it weren't accompanied by anyone else's, and he shook his head.

"Stay as long as you please, provided you're at school on Monday. Accept any food he offers you. He will take you home when you are ready." Mika nodded after each sentence, and when they concluded Shu took off unceremoniously without another word, as if it were a given that this man, who he trusted enough to let Mika eat his food, would keep him safe, and he exhaled a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

When Shu and the other oddballs were out of sight, Wataru's hand slid down to take Mika's and bring it up to his lips, looking him in the eyes as he planted a kiss on it.

"Hibiki Wataru, at your service," he declared with a confidence that put together with the kiss and the phrasing made Mika's face heat up. Expectant eyes fell upon his and it dawned on him that his hair was still pinned up to leave nothing available to cover his eyes. Suddenly Wataru's shoes seemed very interesting, and in fact they did, having a heel much higher than standard for men's shoes and giving Wataru a good six inches on the shorter Mika, whose hand was still in his, and who was still being waited on.

"I- K- Kagehira. Mika," he stammered out, which seemed to satisfy the other, whose gentle grip didn't let up, but dropped to his side, gently tugging Mika along and out of the door. He had a number of questions, but none of them quite made their way out; trustworthy as he may be, Wataru was still intimidating, and he seemed to know what he was doing anyway, his steps firm and sure as he guided the two of them away from the bustling cafe, down the streets, and onto a train.

Even as empty as it was, Wataru pulled Mika close, and the latter, with an arm wrapped around his shoulder, face pressed into a button-down shirt that definitely didn't smell so strongly of flowers (and even the dirt that resided on them, as if he simply kept roses straight from the bush on hand) before, being guided to presumably his house, still had no idea of his intentions. Surely they weren't so bad, given how difficult it was to get Shu Itsuki to trust someone, but his face was unreadable, and Mika didn't dare try harder, instead resting his ear on the large chest, listening to the steady breaths and heartbeat, clinging to the warmth that balanced out his cold, malnourished body, thinking about the days where Shu let him do this, how similar this was, and how different...


	2. Chapter 2

When he awoke, he was being carried down some kind of hallway by someone his fuzzy, half-asleep brain didn't recognize, for just long enough that he squirmed himself out of their arms and fell onto the ground, the thud thankfully leaving his face be and shocking him awake enough to remember that this was not some random stranger, it was Wataru, who'd apparently carried him all the way from a train to... a mall?

"Commendable survival instincts! But fear not, I have no intention of hurting you. Your sleeping face was so cute that I couldn't bear to shake you awake, you see. But what excellent timing! Come along, little crow, today I, Hibiki Wataru, am the one to adorn your wings for the world's viewing pleasure!"

The little crow shuffled to his feet as quickly as he could, being accustomed to keeping up with the similarly impulsive Shu first thing in the morning, and Wataru sprang forward through the mall, gesturing to the shops before them with dramatic flair.

"Show me the door that tells your story, that I may continue it!"

Certainly, this man was a visionary, and would be just as hard to keep up with as the other one he knew. Mika, unused to the atmosphere of the mall between rarely having the spending money to be at one and preferring handmade clothes, stared between the shops for a while, the burden of decision being thrust on him rarely enough that he preferred not to bother with it. Thankfully, it was taken off his shoulders this time too, as Wataru watched him closely, noticed his longing gaze hanging for far too much time on a shop with summer dresses on display, and decided their desires would be satiated there.

Once inside, Wataru wasted no time acting like he belonged there, thrusting hanger after hanger, each with a dress more beautiful than the last, up to Mika's chest, who stood dumbfounded, used to having clothes picked out for him, but unused to catching glimpses of the price tags on them and finally pushing one away.

"Y-Y'kno, Wataru-senpai, these're pretty 'n all, but I don't have a lotta money and I don' really need a-"

"Just Wataru is fine!" he interrupted, continuing about as if Mika hadn't done anything. "I'll acknowledge your objections to anything uncomfortable, but is it not unsuitable for a doll to resist being dressed up?"

"I... Oshi-san's always callin' me like a doll 'cuz I don't have anythin' goin' for me but my looks, yeah, but 'm not really fit to be one."

"If not a doll, then what are you?"

"I- Well I-I am one, jus' a crummy one that can't m-"

"Perfect!" He held up a yellow dress with an elastic band just under the bust and a free-flowing skirt that would look amazing to frolic around in. Paired with a petticoat and a sunhat, Mika could imagine Mademoiselle in it, looking ready for a picnic if Shu were to ever let her that near to the ground. But it was not Mademoiselle who would be wearing it. The hanger was thrust into Mika's hand, and its previous holder trotted off in the direction of the changing rooms.

"Crummy or not, if you're a doll, allow me to dress you in that. Go on!" More grand gestures ushered Mika into a changing room.

Putting the dress on, Mika examined himself in the mirror. Normally he detested his hips, all too wide and unflattering with his total lack of chest, always having to be tailored around to make him look remotely male, but the complete opposite effect was being gone for here, and they flared the loose skirt out just before its end at his mid-thighs, which he tugged at until he realized there would be no getting around how short it was, how much of him was exposed; his arms were passable nowadays, but his legs were freshly covered in scars, the reds and whites clashing against his skin, hideous reminders of his mistakes, and he looked away from the mirror, guilt washing over him, but if he cried now he wouldn't stop. He hadn't even had time to consider how the yellow was the exact shade designed to bring out his right eye when he poked his head out of the changing room.

"Can ya come in here? I don' wanna come out," he confessed meekly, and thankfully he wasn't dragged out but instead joined in the now-cramped changing room, presented to Wataru, who immediately identified and bent down to analyze the problem. "'m sorry."

"If it's so bothersome to you, tights will complement it just fine." At that, he straightened back up, tugging here and there to ensure the fit was right and looking Mika over. There's no shame in displaying the trophies of a hard-won battle, however! They make you no less adorable in this."

"Haven't won it," he muttered, choosing to ignore the compliment for lack of a good response and instinctively shoving his left arm behind his back.

"Future trophies! Your story is a work in progress, and this will do nicely for your next chapter! Put your other clothes back on and we will continue forth writing it."

As instructed, Mika changed out of the dress, relieved to have pants on even if they were significantly less pretty, and when the price tag on the dress fluttered against his hand he walked out still looking at it. How often would he wear it for this sort of price? Why didn't Wataru mind?

Natsume's words from earlier resonated in his head on a loop. _No price is too high to put a smile on someone's face._

He watched as Wataru paid for the dress, looking entirely unbothered, wondering if Natsume learned the principle from him or if he'd known somehow, and he was only snapped by to reality by a bag being held out for him to take.

Wataru was smiling at him, and his heart was racing with all sorts of emotions and he still didn't understand why this was happening, but when he took the bag he grabbed the giving hand tighly with both of his own, looking up, closing his eyes, giving the biggest smile he could muster.

"I don' really get why yer doing this, but... Thank ya kindly, Wataru."

For the first time that night, Wataru's expression seemed breakable.

His eyes shot away from Mika's and he acted as if his face wasn't turning pink, this time not dragging the younger boy along but leading him, as if touching his hand would make the mask crumble further.

This time he walked with a determination toward a shop full of more generic clothing and, more importantly, tights. Wataru made a beeline for them, picking out a white pair and then striding along to the accessories. Being targeted toward teenage girls, the accessories shouldn't have been as tempting as they were, but Mika picked through them in a stupor, trying a couple on before realizing what he was doing and giving up the reins.

Once again playing the roll of dollmaker when it was assigned to him, Wataru put aside the tights and accessories he'd been looking at for himself, eventually settling on decking Mika out in fake gold on top of fake gold, completed with a necklace and earrings that had matching blue gems in them and a lacy white headband that spilled out of itself.

Piling his own impulse buys on top of the gifts, again Wataru seemed as if it was no big deal to get things he didn't need without thinking it over, and doubt started creeping into the little crow's mind, watching as the bag was weighed down with the relatively small additions.

"Hey, Wataru... 'S this really alright? I mean, y'know I can't pay ya back, and it'd be awful cruel if ya earned Oshi-san's trust just to bankrupt us or somethin'... Ya don' seem that bad, though..."

"Little crow!" His eyes shot up to meet those always-unreadable purple ones. "Put a smile on your face!"

He did. He grinned as wide as he had before, trying to condense his gratitude into his face, and topping it off with an awkward laugh. "Thank ya kindly. Sorry fer getting all doubtful of ya."

"Worry not, you will repay me! From this day forth, whenever you see this Hibiki Wataru, you will put a smile on your face just like the one there now, and light my world up as brightly as I've lit yours! Blind me one matchstick at a time!"

"I think it'd only take two to blind ya," Mika muttered, earning a laughing fit that would have attracted attention if there had been anyone else around, but this late there were few enough people that the shorter boy let a chuckle at his own joke out, the grin spreading across his companion's face making his heart flutter just enough to feel like impressing him.

When the other calmed down, he continued, "But is that really alright? Ya buy me all these nice things, jus' doesn't feel right to jus' say 'smile fer me' and move on like that?"

"You underestimate the value of your smiles!"

Mika felt a pang in his chest. Such a simple sentence brought up so many memories of listening to Shu rant about the smiles of his adorable Nito, how they would still be the best in the school, if not the world, if he were to offer up more of them, how Nazuna would always watch in silence when such rants were carried out in front of him as Shu tried by any means to upturn his always-stoic face. Nazuna's smiles were invaluable. They were worth more than one dress and some bracelets. They were worth all of Valkyrie and then some, they were worth Mika's and Shu's lives, they were worth the entire world.

Was it possible for Mika's smiles to be worth that much to anyone?

Seemingly, or perhaps willfully, oblivious to the boy's daze, Wataru continued dragging him along as he had been, the theatrical grin always on his face giving off a different impression from the accompaniment to his laughter, to his loud reactions to quips, to the small (and, he realized now, playfully teasing) smirk he had thrown out earlier after catching Mika staring. This was amicable; this was the smile Mika gave anyone who was concerned about him to placate them. Those smiles were glimpses into Wataru's heart, and until he'd thought on it he had no idea how much he'd come to crave them.

The next store they went to was for shoes, meaning that in the story they were now both wholeheartedly acting out, Mika had free reign to sit down while Wataru buzzed about, looking for the perfect shoes for his doll and even more impulse buys for himself, and as he watched Mika kept grinding the gears of his brain for a joke, a compliment, a quip, anything that might draw out one of the elusive genuine smiles that came from the depths of Wataru's heart...

When he came over next, Mika tried to out-talk his filter. "Hey, Wataru."

"Hmmm? Is there a problem?"

"I gotta repay ya, so, I guess I owe ya my heart," he wiggled his toes, "and my _sole_."

Wataru, having been halfway through an objection and caught off guard, barked out a laugh, a reward for Mika's efforts, and the smile he'd so yearned for as he pulled the short boy to his feet and into an embrace. Mika was now the only one in shoes with any heel, as they'd been shoved onto him, yet the taller had abandoned his, figuring it more economical to simply wear socks until he found another pair that would catch his eye. The difference in their heights was significantly less dramatic now, and Mika found that he could comfortably nuzzle into his shoulder now, feel his warm neck and even warmer cheeks, and it hit him all at once that his nap had only temporary rejuvenated him, that Wataru was so warm and like this, subject to Mika's whims, lowered to the same height, his voice ringing pleasantly rather than irritating, he felt _human_ , not like an angel sent from the sky for him but a person, who wanted to be here with Mika, who saw worth and interest in him, and his eyes closed in a confused, exhausted contentedness.

"That you do!" He seemed unconcerned with Mika's nearly-asleep status, and the voice kept him teetering on the verge of consciousness. "And I look forward to claiming it." Mika, in response, let out a tired giggle and a yawn, prompting Wataru to push him away and onto his own feet.

"Nnaa..."

"Little crow, the train station is not so far from here. Lean on me if you must, but relieve me the burden of carrying you for a bit longer, if you would!" As much as he wanted to be carried around like a princess again, Mika settled for being pampered, taking a seat with a small nod and patting himself awake, accepting Wataru's charity without contest this time and following him sleepily out of the mall and to the train, not giving a second thought where he would end up on the other side of it, not worrying about the stimulus, not finding Wataru nearly as strange as he had a few hours ago, simply letting the feel of his silky, warm hands and gently moving chest guide him into a dream, or perhaps, he figured, this was the dream and he was waking up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i dont actually know if cake mix is a thing in japan but lets pretend it is

This time his awakening was no less startling, but without the accompanying panic Mika could open and rub his eyes without injury, even if he had to immediately adjust to being carted off the train and down a dark street. He let out some unfiltered musings about how he wished he could see the city better at night, and for lack of vision he ended up staying close to his guide through touch, making idle talk with him, chit chatting about life as he walked with an angel whose wings appeared in the shine of his hair under the streetlights.

Wataru's house was big, not to the point of excess, but to the point where it seemed spacious, as if there were other, missing inhabitants.

"My parents are very old, and with so little time left in this world they occasionally decide that if their last days are upon them, they would rather live them out in an exquisite foreign country they never saw when they were younger... I cannot begrudge them for it, but I have been lonely as of late, and so, I could not pass up the opportunity to get to know such an intriguing person when it presented itself!"

Mika worked himself into a stupor, mindlessly moving their things out of the way of making any mess and letting the words overtake the room, as he typically did, until his brain registered a compliment and short-circuited, a shoebox falling out of his arms and onto the floor. He'd been coaxed into accepting that money could be spent on him, but to so offhandedly reaffirm that he really liked him and found him intriguing seemed simply too good to be true, and yet a part of him longed for it to be, was willing to fall into whatever trap this was if it felt so nice.

"Do not worry, little crow! I am well to do on my own, and I cook even when my parents are here, to add a bit of Amazing into the lives of such generous people who have taken me in for so long. Make yourself at hope and allow me to repent for dragging you around so harshly on an empty stomach!"

"Ya don' have anything to repent fer, though? Ya've already treated me way too nice, 'n I don' mind being dragged around." Not wanting to give him an opening to object, Mika took a seat at the table set for three, watching Wataru move about the kitchen with motions so precise that it was clear he really did cook every day, and continuing, "Are ya adopted, though, Wataru? That's kinda surprisin'."

"Isn't it, to think that such a genius would be rejected by the very people that gave him life? Talent cannot be recognized in a child as young as I was, of course, and it took the nurturing of such loving people as my parents to form the Hibiki Wataru the world knows and loves, so rather than 'abandonment', I prefer to think of it as 'destiny'!"

"Destiny, huh... I'm always gettin' bitter with my birth parents fer leavin' me behind like that, but I guess if they hadn't I wouldn'a met my moms, or my Oshi-san, or-" His filter set in just in time, but they both knew what the next thing out of his mouth was going to be, and the fact that it had almost come out so casually made Mika look anywhere but the kitchen, hiding his face as inconspicuously as he could, which was to say, not at all. Wataru, gracious, angelic, generous as he was, pretended not to notice as he carried on.

"Precisely! Struggling though it may be, nothing can change it, and a life lived under the home of those who do not care for you will never be so rewarding as the one you have now! Now then, enrapture yourself in an Amazing experience!" As he spoke, he slid a second serving of omurice onto a plate which was then brought to Mika along with the man himself, who rather than sitting across the table, brought a chair over to be almost uncomfortably close by. "Let the sixteen years of struggle lead you into the taste of my specialty dish!"

He must have known this moment was coming, having been given express orders to accept food from Shu, but it hadn't occurred to him until then that it was really happening, and he took a breath. Massive, heavy dishes like this one were always daunting, even when he was starving and nearly drooling at the sight of it. He closed his eyes and dug in, the flavor a rarity to him to begin with given that he was usually made to eat much more protein-rich meals, but on top of that Wataru's cooking was as eccentric as his personality, and he'd clearly been told about Mika's preference for burnt food. Altogether they made a taste that couldn't be easily described in any terms, but that drove Mika to eat forkful after forkful, not caring for the repurcussions for a few blissful minutes as energy and heat and taste coursed through his body for the first time that day, and he almost whined then there was no more, but dared not tempt his host into even more hospitality.

"Wonderful!" Wataru cooed, his own meal hardly even half done. "Fall for the magic of my splendrous cooking, one of the vessels of joy in this world!"

"Yer right, I'm full'a joy... Ya really are a magician, ya've gotta be to make somethin' that good..."

"Did you doubt me? I wonder in case how you thought this came to be." He fixed Mika's bangs up as they had been before the expedition and two naps, and the latter, unwilling to fuss with him over it, thought back to the scene at the restaurant.

"Well, yeah, it musta been magic, but Nakkun's always tellin' me about I gotta be more proud of my eyes and he likes ta mess with people like that, so I thought it'd been him or somethin'."

"A person in the world who doesn't know the name of Hibiki Wataru! How rare, but of course, I was not working alone!" He reached into the pocket of his shirt and let a few flower petals fly forth from it, clearly not magic but a distraction, as when Mika looked back up a white bird that couldn't have been there before was resting atop Wataru's shoulder. "Birds are much smarter than humans give them credit for, after all."

"Woah... Hey there li'l guy, was it you that did my hair?" Mika affectionately held his hand out to tousle the bird gently and was greeted kindly, as if it recognized one of its own. "Yea, yer real good at it too," he mused, his filter slipping without anyone nearby to correct him on it.

The dove slipped out of his hand, but didn't fly away, as its owner burst out into exaggerated laughter that shook his shoulders dramatically. "Yes, my dove is Amazing! And for it to take such a liking to you, surely you must be no ordinary person! No wonder Shu-kun and Natsume-kun are so fond!"

Having lost the stimulus of Mika's hand, the dove entertained itself by instead trying to eat some of the food off the still-loaded plate, leading to a race between it and Wataru to enjoy their share faster, a battle that the larger of the two won, leaving a good portion left and scooting it over to a confused Mika.

"I want to leave room for dessert, and after all, one of us had a rather satisfying dinner already. It would be shameful to let such a delicious meal go to waste just for that!"

He wanted to object, but already the dove was following the plate to peck at it, challenging the new entrant to the race Wataru had just won, and it was still hot, and Mika was still hungry, and again letting table manners go to the wind, he dug into the rest, leaving a generous amount aside for the dove to finish off and resting his head on the table.

"Mm... Ya should try it burnt sometime, Wataru. All crunchy on top'a everythin' else... 'S perfect. Ya said ya were havin' dessert?"

"I said we are having dessert, little crow!"

"Nnaa... I'm all full from that, though, 'n besides, yer already doin' enough. I jus' wanted ta know if there's anythin' I could do ta help ya out. 'm not so good at anythin', so I might just slow ya down, though."

"How curious. A doll with desires and doubts! I proclaim that such a thing cannot be called a doll at all!"

"I- Y- I told ya I was a crummy one, didn'I?"

"And I have yet to see any proof to that statement! Rather, I decline your request to join me as a crummy doll, for that is an impossibility! You are free to join me as an exceptional person, however~"

All of Mika's replies were lost in stutters, the concept of acknowledging his own humanity being completely lost on him, much less being an _exceptional_ human, but with his declaration Wataru had already gone about his way, pulling out two boxes of store-bought cake mix. 

Mika steeled himself, being tempted with his favorite kind of treat, and justified it in his mind that if he were to beriend an actor, he himself would go along with the roles assigned, and he clambered into the kitchen, trying and failing to be unobtrusive in his efforts to get a bowl, an egg, anything out to make Wataru's life just a little easier, and with his small frame and the other's agility, they ended up in an awkward dance, preparations being scattered about, but eventually placed in a usable manner that Wataru further rearranged to create two identical areas, passing off a box of vanilla flavored cake mix to Mika and pulling him closer than strictly necessary, one hand reaching up to pet him lightly and the other to point out the directions on the box, which Mika definitely understood in their entirety, he half-heartedly assured, even though the rustling of his hair drowned out any reading comprehension he had.

Never was he convincing in his lies, but this time he didn't get chided, only left to mimic the actions Wataru skillfully carried out to the right of him, nervous and spending an inordinate amount of time trying and failing to have the measurements perfect down to the millimeter and fishing out eggshells, but the result was a usable batter. While he, as instructed, dug as many cupcake pans and holders out of every corner of the kitchen he could possibly reach and dutifully lined each slot, Wataru combined their efforts into an absolutely ridiculous amount of strawberry-and-vanilla-swirled batter, a small sample of which was presented to Mika on a spoon.

Taking it, it occurred to Mika that he hadn't had such an opportunity in more than a year, as Shu certainly would never use pre-made cake mix, much less allow Mika to join in the preparation, and the last time he'd been home on his birthday to help, he was turning fourteen, dipping his fingers into a strawberry batter, and having the bowl held out of his reach by giggling mothers so he didn't eat the whole cake raw. The mixture tasted like his fourteenth birthday, intimacy and domesticity and love, intermingled with the taste of here and now encapsulated in vanilla, and he let out a sigh.

"'S so good," he mumbled before handing the spoon back to Wataru and carrying on his business, ensuring every cupcake holder was lined and glancing up for a status report, locking eyes with Wataru, who was very unsubtly staring at him, leaning on the counter, the same spoon that had just been in Mika's mouth now in his own - wasn't that an indirect kiss or something? He had little time to ponder it before they both broke their gazes, Wataru to toss the spoon into the sink and move on to filling the cupcake tins, and Mika to look literally anywhere that wouldn't force him to confront what he'd just seen, not ready to process it on top of everything else, not yet.

Rather, his sight wandered to the methodical dosage of batter, avoiding Wataru's eyes but watching his strong, practiced hands, how each grandoise motion flexed his arms and caused his ponytailed hair to flutter and shine, watching dully when a tray was slid over to him until he was brought back to life with the realization that he was right in front of the oven.

While he set it, more trays were slid over for later, the kitchen having run out of cupcake trays before cupcakes, and Wataru moved to relax in one of the dinner table's chairs, taking the burden off of his feet for a few minutes and giving Mika an opening to slink up behind him, finally acting on the ever-present urge to run his fingers through the long, shiny hair that was exactly as soft as it looked.

"Oho? Yes, I tend to my hair exceptionally well. Feel free to appreciate it as much as you please!"

"'S really soft... I'm kinda jealous, 's so long an' pretty," he mused, tugging the ponytail holder off to let the strands be free, twisting and braiding them aimlessly.

"If that's so, there would be no shame in growing your own hair out for a change. You might look even more adorable!"

"Nnaa, Oshi-san wouldn' let me. He's real peculiar about how he likes my hair, an' if I grew it out it'd have to go through that awkward length, an' all."

"I see! Changing up his lifestyle without his permission may just cause his heart to stop beating once and for all. Shu-kun should break that habit of obstinacy, but if he refuses, it can't be helped. Perhaps I could discuss the matter with him."

"'S not such a big deal, my hair's fine the way it is. Although I guess if ya wanted to, I wouldn' complain, he seems to like ya enough to wanna listen to ya."

"Yes, Shu-kun is a treasured friend, after all. I think I will be paying a visit to your clubroom, then!"

"In the meanwhile, I got yer hair all done up. Looks real pretty, even if I'm no good at stylin' it." At that, Wataru pushed himself out of the chair and toward the nearest reflective surface, finding one in the kitchen and staring at himself from as many angles as he could manage.

"Amazing! Skilled hands could do this perfectly, but only unskilled ones can make such a unique style! Yes, I certainly have a lot to learn from you!"

"Uh... Thanks, I think? 'S kinda weird to be complimented on not bein' perfect, unless yer just insultin' me all passive-aggressive."

"Absolutely not! Life cannot have Amazing if it's perfect, for the heart of Amazing is surprise! Surely it would be surprising if I abandoned my signature hairstyle, or if there were to be a coin behind your ear all of a sudden!" He reached out, a hand tucking behind Mika's ear, the latter preparing himself for another of his magic tricks, to be awed by how he produced a coin from seemingly nowhere, when the hand grabbed his head tight and pulled him into a kiss.

His heart stopped and started again. He had never been kissed, not like this, being pulled in all too close, Wataru's chest against his own, the grip on his head firm as if scared that he would run away should it lighten up. But he wouldn't have, not even if he could think to respond. This sort of magic was not a sleight-of-hand trick, but a pure form, the kind patent of Natsume, that spiked his emotions in all sorts of unfamiliar ways that he didn't feel at all opposed to making familiar.

He had barely had time to register that he'd frozen up when Wataru pulled away, along with all the theatrics, leaving Mika locking eyes with his, full of anxiety, disappointment, the same nervousness that Mika recognized as the grip of his hand, the underlying thoughts that he must have overpowered him, scared him, screwed it all up when it was going so well. His hold faltered and Mika, trying to make him understand, to transfer a bit of the magic that warmed him so, grabbed him tightly around the waist and kissed him back, pulling away shortly with an awkward, heartfelt grin.

For a moment, they stood in each other's embrace, both of them still trying to convince themselves that had just happened, silence falling between them in favor of their own thoughts, amplifying the sound of the oven timer going off behind them. Upon registering it, first Mika, then Wataru, erupted into a fit of giggles, finally breaking away from each other to silence it and rescue the cupcakes from their prison of heat.

"Awww, they're all burnt... Well, 's not like we don't have plenty more to go 'round, at least."

"Exactly! On that note, if you would, please put the second tray in the oven. As well, do not assume that I am a love-drunk schoolgirl who loses track of time! These cupcakes are for you, you see, so I burnt them on purpose. They are not overcooked, but perfect!"

"Ya're really doin' way too much for me, y'know... I'm just fine with normal cupcakes, too."

"I believe the appropriate response is 'thank ya kindly'!"

The imitation of his accent drew another small bout of laughter from Mika, who, now a bit cocky from understanding Wataru's vulnerability better, leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. "Thank ya kindly~"

"Much better." The theatrics stayed on, but without the apparent need for them the assurance came out more warmly, and Wataru completed his task of moving the cupcakes out to cool, assigning Mika to refilling the tray with lining, together working themselves into a rhythm of making and baking a third tray, then a fourth, then waiting for them all to cool and feeding each other the scarce remnants with a spoon, indirect kisses being gladly shared between them now as they let themselves relax. Mika took up the helm of washing the dishes, one of the few things he was confident in, while Wataru prepared a sufficient amount of icing for the cupcakes, this time refusing to let Mika so much as sample it, as it was to be Amazing.

Each decorated two batches of cupcakes, some attempting to be perfect and some purposely sloppy but heartfelt, according to the whims of the decorator, resulting in cupcakes that were equal parts presentable and disastrous, a standard that overjoyed Wataru and tempted him to dig out one of the sloppy, over-iced ones as soon as they were finished, and following his lead, for Mika to take for himself one from the first, burnt batch. Together they threw themselves into the chairs at the table to dig in, having both had enough of standing for the moment.

Wataru seemed confident in his creation, eating it happily enough that Mika didn't even question the flavor of icing that he'd been barred from tasting, though it was yellow enough that lemon was the most likely, and he took an eager bite out of his own, registering that it was indeed lemon before coughing involuntarily.

"Gwaaah, why's it so spicy?!" he demanded, receiving only laughter in return (followed shortly by a glass of water).

"Is it not Amazing? The spice intermingling with the sweetness~ Take another bite and learn for yourself!"

Now steeled against the oncoming flavors, Mika took another bite to consider it. Though heavy, the spice didn't overpower when he was prepared for it, and truly, he considered, the whole combination worked. 

"Ya really are a genius," he mumbled, forgetting to even swallow before speaking, not that the other seemed to mind.

"Of course! I am not so arrogant as to call myself a title I have not earned! Help yourself to as many as you want, and then we can retire for the day. Ah, perhaps finally I'll have a friend to join in my movie-watching..."

"Ain't 'friend' kinda-" Kinda what? It felt like entirely too much for someone he'd just gotten to know today, and yet entirely too little for someone he'd kissed so passionately. "A-Are we friends?" 

"Excellent question! I would play any role you desire, naturally."

"But I don' want it to be a role, Wataru, I want it to be _you_ , cuz ya make me feel all kindsa good ways an' I wanna return that, y'know?" He refused to process anything he was saying, only that he was standing up now and inching closer to Wataru as he spoke. "So if ya wanna be friends, I'm okay with that, but don't go actin' just to make me happy when there's loads better people to spend yer time on." 

"Enough of saying such gloomy things about yourself. Being truly 'me'... Does not come as easily as it does for you. That doesn't mean I am unhappy playing a role in your life. I saw a story I rather enjoyed and wished to insert myself into it. The details are up to its author, but I will be happy with any of them. That is what I mean by it." By now their hands had intertwined, Wataru's voice taking on an almost unnatural tone - or rather, the most natural one it could take on.

"Yer an author too, though? Ya got yer own story, an' yer own feelin's, we're just mergin'em, is all. So ya got just as much a say in it as I do."

"I see. I do have a great many things to learn from you after all. If that is the case, here is my say." Tender hands pulled Mika onto his lap, resting on his back, neither tense nor gripping, but gently nudging him closer for their lips to meet.

Rather than freeze up, Mika leaned into it, taking the long moment to pull himself closer, to deepen the kiss, to entangle his fingers in soft hair, to share their warmth, their breath, their feelings, their story. Only to breathe did he pull away, and even then refused to let go, burying a smile in Wataru's neck.

"Guess I just said mine too."


	4. Chapter 4

The third time Mika woke up in Wataru's arms, it was not to being carried or pushed around, but to being held firmly, cuddled as if he were a teddy bear, by a sleeping Wataru, the world silent around them save for a television that had been left on, stuck to the menu options of a movie so dreadful that Mika couldn't bear to keep himself awake through the whole thing.

Hesitant to try and move, and seeing no point in doing so anyway, he resigned himself to the position of cuddle buddy, taking in Wataru's sleeping features, how he hadn't bothered to undo the braid Mika had thrown on him, how completely the silence and the domesticity contrasted with the unapproachable persona he tried so hard to maintain. Even with his mouth hanging open to leak drool onto his pillow, a ratty shirt clearly meant for no one but himself to see thrown on, his hair messy and sticking out everywhere, even so, he looked like an angel, a piece of heaven sent down to embrace Mika, even in his sleep maintaining his persona of extravagant radiance the likes of which was untouchable by an undeserving mortal such as himself.

Undeserving though he was, he was the lapdog of a similarly divine entity, who spoiled him, accustomed him to the presence of his kindred, and as his fingers traced a porcelain jaw, a pang of guilt ran through him.

It was only because of Shu that he had the bravery to approach, much less touch, someone so amazing, and now he was taking advantage of that generosity to run off with one of his closest friends. Did he know this would happen when he allowed them to be alone together? Did he hope against hope that it wouldn't, and that Wataru was playing charades with another fool he found interesting? Would he be sad, or angry, or go hole away until he graduated and leave Mika out on his own? Or would he be glad that Mika had someone else to guide him, someone he approved of, to lead him to a different purpose in the year he had left of school? 

He had no more time to ponder, for better or worse, as a hand came to rest on top of the one that caressed Wataru's cheek, agape mouth turning up into a smile, lavender eyes taking in the sunlit room and the presence of his companion. 

"What a blessed morning. Indulge me a while, if you would, for the bed is extraordinarily better than the world on days like this." He punctuated the sentence with a yawn, trying to slyly wipe drool off on his shirt and tugging Mika closer, a language of touches that the latter was fluent in. _Please, don't go, I just need to be with you right now._

He took a deep breath.

If he had forsaken Shu, he had done it already.

There was the off chance that he knew of, or planned, this endeavor.

If he objected, there was the memory of this moment to treasure even if no more could be made.

In the worst case, if this ruined his perfectly tuned world, if Mika was a hindrance, if he was considered a spiteful, contrarian doll and cast away, there was someone now to catch him.

Mika wrapped an arm around his waist, head in his chest. _I won't._

When Wataru finally did rise, it was like every other aspect of his life, using all his energy, sudden enough to sweep away anybody who couldn't adjust, leaving and returning to his room within seconds with his spoils from the shopping trip of yesterday and wasting no time in starting to dress Mika, who reflexively started to strip upon seeing clothes that were meant for him. At that moment, it occurred to him that he would need to break that habit in inappropriate contexts, because now Wataru had seen him almost-naked. Regardless, neither had any objection, nor was any comment made on the shabby state of his body besides reminding him that sleeping in a binder would damage his ribs (to which he assured he didn't do it often, just that it had slipped his mind in his bad movie haze of the night before).

After playing his own role, Wataru also stripped down to his underwear, fishing through his closet for something of his own to wear. In the meanwhile, Mika spotted a full-body mirror and stood up to admire his outfit.

The first thing he noticed was that he looked adorable. The dress hung just the same as before, but this time his arms were covered in bracelets and his legs in tights, disguising the imperfections he'd wreaked on his poor body and the anxiety about the length of the dress on its own. Like this, he could appreciate what Wataru's genius had done to him. The simple dress, accented with the necklace, the jewelry, and the headband, made him feel almost the way he did when Shu dressed him, like a doll, a beautiful adornment, ready to be stared at, held as a status symbol like a designer purse.

And yet the "almost" was still an almost. Perhaps he was caught up in the comfort of having his body covered, or perhaps it was because the dress wasn't tailored exactly to him and hung loosely where it expected a fuller figure, or perhaps it was because it was a dress at all, or perhaps it was because the colors were so different from his normal gothic attire, perfectly coordinated with...

His eyes.

In Valkyrie's attire, they were always a defect, a blemish on his otherwise beautiful face, that stood out ugly from the perfect, elaborate dressings Shu made. Those outfits were never for him; they were for Mademoiselle, or Shu, or Nazuna, and awkwardly fitted onto his failure of a face and body, and it showed.

But this outfit coordinated with him. The yellow and blue of his eyes were not a blemish, not an afterthought, not something to spitefully refuse to acknowledge. One was the sparkling jewel around his neck, in his ears, dotting some of the bracelets on his wrists. The other was the gold on the rest of them, the dress that the concept was based around, the radiant tone to which everything else harmonized.

This outfit was for him, and him alone, and it showed.

He had to remind himself to breathe, exhaling an overwhelmed sob. He had gotten used to charity to some extent. It was a necessity of adoption, and a prerequisite to how Valkyrie functioned, but those were for reasons; if Mika were removed from the equation, his parents would be happy with a different child. Shu would have picked up and taken home some other worn-down pretty boy. But this moment existed because Wataru wanted it to, it existed because Mika did, and it served no purpose except to make him happy.

The message was clear: that he, and he specifically, _deserved_ this, that he was beautiful despite - no, because of - his eyes, that his smile was worth every bit of money spent to lead up to this moment.

In the mirror, he watched those statements make themselves abundantly, inescapably clear. In the mirror, he watched his world shatter. The idea of being appreciated, /loved/, not for his usefulness or uniqueness, but for himself, was by no means bad, but it contradicted every idea he had built up in one go, and he had no reaction except to cry into his hands.

The noise attracted Wataru's attention, and he abandoned getting dressed to turn Mika toward him.

"Is something unsatisfactory?" Even if he couldn't see the concern on his face, it leaked out of his words, with anxious undertones that Mika was eager to placate, enough so to collect himself for a moment.

"'S- no, 's- jus'- way too nice, when ya don't got a reason t'be makin' me all pretty like this, I'unno how t'-t'respond, 'sall."

"I do believe I told you the proper response is, 'Thank ya kindly~' and a smile."

"Ya don' _get it_!" He wiped away his tears, glancing at the mirror, then settling for the floor. "Y-Ya go dressin' me up jus' cuz ya wanna, and on toppa that, ya- ya make my stupid eyes feel pretty, I can't jus' repay ya fer somethin' like that with some cheap smile or even a billion of 'em, ya gotta let me really make it up to ya someday."

"But you can," he interjected. "I saw a doll I liked, and wanted to dress him up according to his most distinct feature, without regard for the payback. It is merely a selfish pleasure of mine, and if you are happy, that is its own reward."

"I-I am, but-"

"Then go on, and show me."

He made one more swipe at his face, drying it off thoroughly before flashing a smile, and this time, pulling Wataru in for the tightest hug he could muster. "Thank ya kindly~ Although I swear I'm gonna pay ya back for real."

"There is truly no need," he got in response, in addition to returning the hold. "All I desire is to put a smile on your face. Allow me to get dressed properly, and we will finish this chapter. Amazing!" Wataru declared, his mask falling firmly back into place as he continued the hunt for the right outfit.

Mika continued to stare at himself, wiping his puffy eyes thoroughly and examining the outfit. "Whaddaya wanna do? Think my heart'll give out if ya try a repeat of yesterday, yanno."

"If your heart gives out, I will be here to receive! In any case, a work of art should be displayed, so after a meal, I felt we should go to your natural habitat." 

"Nnn, my heart really will stop if ya try 'n make people look at me, though..." He turned to Wataru, who now was outfitted in a dress of his own, the light purple flowers accenting his own eyes, all illuminated by the flickering of the television screen. "I think I wanna write the epilogue instead. Yer hand must be gettin' cramped, 'n all."

"How shockingly human of you!"

"Ya think so? Maybe I could get used ta bein' a human, then."

"Then go on! Surprises and uncertainty are the vessel to fill a person's heart with Amazing!"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okonomiyaki is a common dish in kansai (where mika is from), it's a savory pancake of sorts, and the name's literal meaning is "whatever you like, grilled"
> 
> while i'm here, this is the last chapter! sorry it took so long, i hope you guys enjoyed it :)

In Mika's hands, the day was by no means glamorous. Rather than go to any extravagant cafe, he insisted that Wataru pick out movies he wanted to watch, while he was the one to impress with his cooking, rummaging through miscellaneous ingredients to make a generous portion of okonomiyaki, which he wouldn't have previously admitted to missing, and popcorn, then getting rid of all his tights and accessories, leaving him exposed, and Wataru doing the same.

Being unglamorous, of course, did not make it any less enjoyable. They found themselves curled up in bed together, wholly absorbed in a cheesy, low-budget horror movie. Wataru's secret lifestyle, Mika's scars, secrets that had to be hidden from the world were all on display in front of each other, forgotten, irrelevant, and never prodded at. They were safe here, neither crow nor doll, acting nor roleplaying, simply two humans - two flawed, normal humans.

So when the night came, and Wataru told him of his plans for next time, they argued, smiled, nodded, compromised, human-like and on equal ground, both certain that there would be a next time.


End file.
